


Roswell Elementary

by EmilyandKara



Category: Roswell (TV 1999), Roswell High - Melinda Metz
Genre: Alternate Universe - Elementary School, Crushes, Cute, Cute Kids, Elementary School, F/M, First Crush, Gen, Kid Fic, Mr. Raddish, Multi, Romance, Roswell Elementary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-10-14 06:54:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17503760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmilyandKara/pseuds/EmilyandKara
Summary: Roswell Elementary... where it all started. The beginnings of friendship and love that no one knew would happen. Who Kyle, Alex, Isabel, Michael,Maria, Max and Liz were before they became the most wanted teens in Roswell.[Read this classic series from the late 90's/early 2000's in its entirety. This is based off of the original Roswell (1999-2002) TV series, so things are different compared to the current series]





	1. Where the Heart Is

**Author's Note:**

> Roswell Elementary has been off of the web for over 10 years, but I'm pleased to announce that in honor of the new TV show I (Emily) will be releasing the entire classic series. I will try to post a new one every day, but there may be some days that I miss, so please be patient with me!
> 
> This is based off of the original Roswell (1999-2002) TV series, so things are different compared to the current series, but I hope some of the newer fans will think it's cute it anyway.

(by Emily)

The toy house that Momma had given him after he'd first came here was tucked into his backpack today. Max didn't want to leave home. He didn't want to get on that big yellow bus filled with all of the kids, and go to that thing called school. Even if his sister Izzy was coming too, he still didn't want to. He'd cried a little bit, as he and Izzy were standing outside of the house with Momma waiting for the bus to come. Izzy was clutching his hand, like she was scared too. So Momma had gone back inside, found his house, and brought it back out to him, telling him that he could bring home with him to school, at least for today.

He'd never been to school before. He and Izzy had tutoring at home, to catch up with the other kids... After they came out of that cave, even though they looked like how everyone else looked, there was a lot of stuff they didn't know. They couldn't talk, or eat, or do anything that kids their age should know how to do by then. They'd caught up pretty fast, because they were good learners, although it had still taken them two whole years to get up to speed. The doctors at the orphanage had guessed that they were about six years old when they were found. Six plus two was eight, Max knew now, and eight was how old they were. He and Izzy were going into the third grade today.

Had it really been two years since he'd seen the other boy last? The one with the hair sticking up all over his head and the flashing dark eyes, who'd defiantly stood up on a rock to get their attention once he was ready. Max felt sad whenever he thought about the boy. He knew Izzy still cried for him. Sometimes Max cried for him too, because he missed him. They all belonged together. But the boy hadn't wanted to come with them when they saw the car. And now he was lost.

Izzy was still squeezing his hand tightly as the bus bounced up and down through the streets of Roswell. He squeezed back, silently promising her that he wouldn't let go. He'd hold on as best as he could, because he knew she was scared that she might lose him too, just like they'd lost the boy on that night. He was her brother, and he had to protect her. The power of their mixed hands made them glow briefly, and they exchanged secret smiles. They could do things that other kids couldn't. They didn't know why, but they could.

They rode in silence, huddled up together in the green plastic seat. Max didn't like all of the kids yelling and laughing and screaming all around him. He wished that Momma had given them a ride to school in her car, instead of making them sit in this loud crazy bus. He wasn't too sure how he felt about other kids yet. Sometimes Momma would take Izzy and him to a playground nearby, because he knew she was worried that they spent too much time just with each other, but Max was too shy to play with anyone except for Izzy. Max sometimes thought that maybe Izzy might want to play with the other kids, but she wouldn't. She would stay with him instead, because that was just what sisters did with their brothers when they were feeling shy.

When the bus arrived at the big red brick building that everyone called school, Izzy curled up against his shoulder, sniffling fearfully. Momma had driven them here yesterday and walked around with them, showing them where everything was. It wasn't the same though. The schoolyard had been empty then, and all of the classrooms too. Out the window he could see that there were groups of kids everywhere. Max had never seen so many at once. They were like the stars in the sky. There were so many he couldn't even count them all.

He took out his toy house for a minute, and looked at it. He even showed it to Izzy, although it was his house, not hers. She hadn't needed a house like he had. Usually Izzy wasn't this scared though. "Remember what Momma said, Izzy?"

"She said we'd be home before you know it," Izzy answered. "But I miss Momma, Max. I wanna be home now."

"Me too," Max admitted. "But we gotta be brave for Momma and Daddy, and we gotta show them we're big enough now to be at school with all of the other kids so they won't worry anymore about us."

The bus came to a stop then, and waves of kids began to pour out of their seats, down the aisle, and off the bus. Izzy looked up at him, that determined look replacing her fear. She wiped the tears out of her eyes, and helped him to his feet. "I can be brave," she decided, and she pulled him down the aisle easily.

When he stepped off the bus, it was like stepping into another dimension. Like those old black and white Twilight Zone shows that Momma and Daddy watched together. It was the School Zone, with a nightmare troop of other kids running around everywhere, and even worse, they were in full color. He wanted to plant his foot in the last step, because he didn't want to go down there. But Izzy was tugging on him, and she was pretty strong for a girl her age. And anyway, if she could be brave for Momma and Daddy, then so could he. So he let himself be dragged, and resisted the urge to turn on his heel and beg the bus driver lady to please let him go back home. Now.

Izzy pulled him off the bus with a good yank, and he came reluctantly out into the sunny morning. Along the side of the bus they went, and then Max felt a tingly feeling down in his tummy. He looked across the playground, and his eyes locked with the most beautiful little girl he'd ever seen before. He stopped stubbornly, digging his feet into the dirt for a minute, wanting to catch another glimpse between the moving heads of all of the other kids. Izzy gave him a puzzled look, but he wasn't moving until he saw her again. He craned his neck, searching.

A break came in the crowd and he found her again. She was playing a hand game with another girl, a curly blonde who jumped all around like a bouncing rubber ball. She had long dark hair, that looked so soft and shiny. She had the sweetest smile he'd ever seen, even sweeter than Momma's, and she was smiling right at him. Her smile invited him home. All Max could do was stare, until a group of kids stood right in the way, blocking his view of her again.

"Max, c'mon! I wanna go!" Izzy growled impatiently, giving a tug that could've broken his arm.

So Max allowed himself to be led once again by his bossy sister. He threw one more glance over his shoulder at the pretty dark-haired girl. She was laughing, with her arms all wound around her friends. Suddenly Max didn't mind school so much, if she was gonna be here.

He thought back to the toy house in his backpack. Maybe he didn't need to take home with him after all. Momma said that home was where the heart was. Maybe home was where the girl was, because she was in his heart. And someday, maybe he'd be in her heart too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're enjoying Roswell Elementary, please check out my web comic, Iris Tiger Tails. It has a lot of similarities to Roswell Elementary, but with cute tiger (and other cat) characters too! What's not to love?
> 
> <http://iristiger.com/iris-tiger-tails1/>


	2. Strangers in a Strange Land

(by Kara)

  
  
It was their second year at Roswell Elementary. Momma and Dad were proud of the progress they made. Max didn't ask about going home anymore, but sometimes they wondered why he liked to look in his telescope so much. Izzy still cried at night, for the boy, but she didn't wake Momma and Dad up. She just crawled in with Max, and let him rock her back to sleep.

He wondered what happened to the boy sometimes. It had been three years. The adoption went through, and all the social people finally stopped wondering where he and his sister had come from. They didn't remember. They tried to remember, but Izzy was already starting to think of this place as home. She was starting to care about what others thought of her, and to notice how people looked. She tried to blend in with everyone else during the day. But at night, she still cried for the boy they lost. If only Max had grabbed his hand, and held it tighter. Then they wouldn't be so alone.

They stepped off the bus. Izzy still held on to his hand when they went someplace new. He knew that she didn't want to lose him too. He could always find her by following her feelings back. And over the summer, she discovered that she could come visit him in his dreams. She didn't like it when he dreamed about the pretty girl, with all the dark hair. That made her cry too. Because she thought he might love someone more than her.

They felt the boy's feelings sometimes. Mostly anger, sometimes fear. Sometimes, when he laid in bed at night, Max could almost feel the other boy's tears. He wondered what made the boy cry so much. If only he hadn't let go.

As they stepped off the bus, he saw the dark-haired girl. She was jumping around and laughing with her blonde friend that always reminded Max of TinkerBell, or the Energizer Bunny, without the drum. Izzy tugged at his hand and glared at him, trying to make him stop paying attention to his dream girl. But the girl filled his heart with warmth, right down to where Momma said his stomach was. The girl made him feel like he belonged here, instead of to the place before his memories.

And then he felt a sudden pang of recognition. From the way Izzy pulled on him, she did too. And then the boy was there, his dark eyes wide and scared. He looked around like that deer Dad's car had caught in the headlights. Like he didn't know what to expect. Like he was a stranger, all alone.

The blonde girl noticed him too, and looked up from her hand game with the dark girl. She smiled shyly at him, and held out a hand. The boy glared at her, so she stuck her tongue out at him. The boy's face crumpled a little, and he ran his hands through his messy brown hair. Maybe that's why it stuck up so much, like the porcupine that lived under the rock in the backyard.

And then the boy opened his mouth.

"Cheesehead."

The girl tossed her blonde curls. "Big Ugly Buttface." And she turned back to the dark haired girl, but still sneaking looks at the boy.

Izzy pulled him over to the boy, and when their hands touched, it felt like a shock, like the time he stuck the paper clip in the electric socket to see what would happen. Izzy took the boy's other hand, and they stood in a circle. The fear that he felt from the boy calmed, and something missing inside his chest filled. They were together. They weren't alone.

"What did they name you?" Izzy's voice was soft. The boy had tears in his eyes, and she used the hem of her dress to wipe them away. "Momma named me Isabel, and him Max. Momma and Dad are the Evanses. They're nice."

The boy squirmed a little before mumbling. "Hank doesn't like my name. He calls me Mickey, like the stupid mouse. But the ladies at the house with all the kids--they called me Michael. I'm sposed to be a bringer of glory or something stupid like that. Michael Guerin."

Izzy smiled. "Michael Guerin."

He gave her a lopsided grin. "Izzy Evans. Izzy Lizard breath." But the smile was real. And the feelings Max felt from him were happy ones.

"I'm glad we found you. We were worried. Are you okay?" Max felt something choking in his throat, the feeling that Momma said was tears. But it wasn't okay to cry all the time. That's what Dad said, because boys don't cry. Izzy could though, because she was a girl.

Michael nodded. "We're together now. I'll be okay." And their clasped hands tightened. And softly, they began to glow.

"Do you know who we are?" His voice sounded small again, alone. The light of their hands wavered a little bit.

Izzy shook her head. "But Max can put things back together again with his hands. And I can visit people's dreams sometimes."

The boy glared down at the ground. "I can break things. And then Hank gets mad at me." So that was part of the fear. He tightened his grip on Michael's hand.

"We're together now. We'll figure it all out someday." And they smiled at each other. Secret smiles. Smiles of best friends who found each other.

They were strangers in a strange land, but they weren't alone anymore.


	3. From the Start

(by Emily)

 

That weird boy with the icky hair was standing up by Mrs. Donaldson's desk, scowling at everybody. Maria DeLuca's head kept popping up from the cursive paper they were supposed to be doing so she could keep her eye on him. She wouldn't put it past him to do something slimy and boylike when she least expected it.

The boy's name was Michael Something-or-Other-That-She-Didn't-Bother-to-Remember, and it was his first day ever at Roswell Elementary. So Mrs. Donaldson made him get up and mumble a few words to the class. Yeah, that's exactly what he did. He mumbled and he kept his spiky head ducked way down like he didn't even want to look anybody in the eye. She couldn't even understand him hardly at all when he talked. Not that she wanted to. Although he might've had something interesting to say. You never know. Stranger things had happened before.

She was all depressed and distressed because Lizzie wasn't in her class this year. How could the teachers do this to her? Separate her from her bestest friend and she would surely die a slow agonizing death in captivity. Didn't they know that? She growled to herself in disgust as she picked up her boring yellow pencil and began to copy from the board again. Someday she'd have a whole collection of cool pencils with crazy animal print designs printed on them and stuff. Or sparkly ones, like those wicked cool ones at the drugstore. But Mom always bought her the yellow ones, because they were cheaper. She sighed. Picking a few cents of extra money over style was just a sad, sad thing.

"Maria DeLuca," Mrs. Donaldson chose that moment to say.

Her head popped up again. "Huh?"

Innocent look. Give Mrs. Donaldson an innocent look and hope for the best. The last thing she needed was to start her very first day of fourth grade hanging out with Principal Anderson. She wasn't even doing anything wrong this time. Unless Mrs. Donaldson could read her mind with magic psychic powers like all those fat weirdly-dressed ladies with gobs of makeup on their faces that were in the ads during late-night tv. Late-night tv sucked, especially when you were all alone in the house the entire night and huddled in your afghan just waiting for your mom to come home from a date to make sure she was okay and she wasn't gonna leave like some people Maria could name.

"Would you show Michael here to the bathroom, please?" Mrs. Donaldson asked.

"Uh huh." She nodded with relief, her blonde curls bouncing all over the place. Tommy Hilligan was sitting behind her this year. And if he knew what was good for him, he wouldn't pull her hair. She never ever let anybody get away with touching her hair. But he didn't. Good.

She got up and pranced down the aisle. Her feet just always had this crazy urge to dance with an inner grace whenever she moved, and she couldn't control it. She stared at the boy waiting for her at the end of the aisle. He was glaring hostilely at her with his arms crossed. Was she supposed to be scared or something? She giggled. Hurricane DeLuca always called a bluff when she saw one.

"You must be pretty dumb if you can't even find your way to the bathroom by yourself, y'know," she began as they walked out of the classroom together. Well, okay, if you wanted to be more exact, he shuffled, and she bounced. "It's not like Roswell Elementary is just so big and huge that you could get lost or something like that."

"I didn't ask for some stupid tour guide. It was the teacher's cheeseheaded idea." His voice was low and kinda gravelly-sounding. It gave her weird shivers to hear it so clearly, without all that mumble-jumble from before.

"Yeah, well, you look like the kinda boy who needs a map just to find your fat butt."

"What do you know anyway? You're just a weird girl."

"Well, you're just a creepy boy."

"I hate you!" he exclaimed, glaring at her.

"Ditto," she replied calmly, with a toss of her curls to show her complete lack of caring for this spiky-haired rebel boy who needed a personality transplant on top of his probably already scheduled hair transplant.

They reached the Boy's Room then. He violently shoved the door open and stalked inside. "I hope you drown in the toilet bowl!" she joyously called in after him before the door slammed right in her face.

Hmmph. What kind of rude icky boy was he anyway? She was now officially sorry she had ever tried to be nice to him this morning. Except this morning he'd looked lost and scared and all alone in the world. Like he needed somebody to come along and give him a little bit of golden sunshine. Heck, he needed a whole year's worth of golden sunshine before he'd be even remotely worthy of her time and company. She'd work on him this year maybe. Wear him down a little. He could be her next project or something.

Then he was barging out of the door again. His eyes looked a little funny. They were a little watery and red and puffy. But maybe he just had allergies. Yeah. Probably that was it.

"You're lucky you're not sitting near me," she piped up as they walked back to the classroom together.

"Yeah, why's that?" he asked.

"Because then I could get you every hour of every day."

"Next year maybe."

"Yeah." She smiled at the thought. "Then I can have a whole extra year to plan out my strategy." Brilliant.

"Next year, I'll be ready for you too," he decided, giving her a shove and glaring at her. "Stupid cheeseheaded girl."

"Dumb ugly dorkbutt boy." She smiled sweetly at him and shoved him back.

His big rough hand found its way into her curls and he stopped walking to stare into her eyes. His eyes were dark angry thunderheaded clouds that made her feel all dizzy and weak inside. She forgot about the nobody-touching-her-hair rule in an instant as he smirked at her. And his stormy eyes cleared for just a tiny little blink-and-you-miss-it second. He gave the curl he was still holding a gleeful yank and turned on his heel, slinking into the classroom without a backwards glance. She grinned and followed after him. She could still just barely feel where his hand had been.

Yeah, she liked Michael right from the start.


	4. Completely Whipped

(by Emily)

Oh man, just his luck he had to get stuck with that crazy girl from before school in his class. The small, laughing hyena one, with the daisies in her hair and the angry green eyes. There she was, sitting towards the back with those blonde curls taunting him and saying, "You can't have me, nyah." Not that he wanted to touch her stupid curls anyway. Not like his fingers were just itching to reach out and grab one when he walked down the aisle to ask their teacher where the heck the stupid bathroom was.

She wasn't paying attention to him anyway. She had her head down doing some stupid lamo work assignment. He hated school already 'cause they were already making him do work and he hated work. He'd rather be back in the orphanage all angry and wanting to burn something 'cause nobody wanted him than here. Even though *they* were here. The ones from before. Max. Isabel.

They were the ones he belonged with, not a little blonde girl who looked like that Tinkberbell fairy from when he'd watched the Disney Peter Pan video at the orphanage one night with all of the other annoying, smelly kids. So how come he couldn't stop glaring at her while he waited for the teacher lady to stop writing in her little gradebook thing and look up? How come it made him feel all swirly inside when her eyes slid from the cursive she was supposed to be copying from the board over to him every once in a while? Dammit. He was supposed to be watching *them*, not her. What was the matter with him? Maybe she had some weird Tinkerbell girl magic or something. That was what was making him feel all funny.

Finally the Donaldson teacher lady person looked up harshly from her little gradebook and rasped, "Yes, Michael?"

Amazing she knew his name already. This wasn't a good sign. Not good at all. He stared at her dumbly, his mouth stammering. "I need the bathroom," he finally said in a harsh voice.

"Hmm," Mrs. Donaldson considered, peering over the tops of her glasses at him.

What the heck was that supposed to mean? he wondered. Man, did he already mess up? Maybe he wasn't supposed to ask about going to the bathroom or something? It was only his first day. She could give him a break here, come on. It wasn't his fault he didn't know where the bathroom was, right?

"Hmm," Mrs. Donaldson said again, taking out her attendence book and flipping through it idly. She ran her fingers down one of the pages, the one with the listing of all the kids in the class he guessed, and then her fingers finally came to a rest on... "Maria DeLuca."

DeLuca DePukeah DeSpookah De-- oh. *Her* head popped up. That girl. That... Maria girl. "Huh?" she asked.

He smirked. She was such an airbrain. He could tell already. Complete and total fizz inside of that empty little head. Fizz to go with those soft frizzy curls. Fizz and frizz. Not that he knew her curls were soft.

Yet.

"Would you show Michael to the bathroom please?" Mrs. Donaldson requested.

"Uh huh." And she nodded, making those curls boing around everywhere like springs. Man, if it was him sitting behind her like that, he would've yanked them like there was no tomorrow. But the kid sitting behind her now, some stupid jock-in-the-making from the look of it, looked too scared to.

Yeah right. What was so scary about her? She was just some little itty bitty harmless cheesecurl girl. He could beat her up with both hands tied behind his back. And blindfolded.

She was walking towards him now. It was like dancing was the way she walked, with her feet bobbing up and down all over the place and those curls bouncing along behind her. He glared at her again, and she actually had the nerve to giggle at him.

That's it. He wasn't even going to look at her anymore after that. He just shuffled along behind her with his head down, following after her like some stupid sheep who'd get lost without her around to lead. She pranced out the door and turned left, walking down the long, wide hallway.

"You must be pretty dumb if you can't even find your way to the bathroom by yourself, y'know," she finally said. Her voice was all soft and low and comforting. Sweet and musical. "It's not like Roswell Elementary is just so big and huge that you could get lost or something like that."

He groaned. He should've known she couldn't keep those big full pouty lips of hers shut. "I didn't ask for some stupid tour guide," he informed her. "It was the teacher's cheeseheaded idea."

Then she said something he'd never expect in a billion years. She turned and looked at him, her eyes blazing angrily with a fire he'd never seen burn quite so hot in anybody else's eyes. "Yeah, well, you look like the kinda boy who needs a map just to find your fat butt."

"What do you know anyway? You're just a weird girl." He was gonna brush her off. It was the only thing to do. She shouldn't mess with him. Didn't she know that? He was mean, and tough from his years of being on his own with nobody else to count on except for himself, and he didn't let anybody into his heart without permission. Then how come this, this small human *girl* was already worming her way in?

"Well, you're just a creepy boy," she fired back, all bold and sassy.

He gaped at her for a minute, outraged that she just wouldn't let it go. "I hate you!" he exclaimed in a fit of passion.

She only tossed her curls in a self-congratulatory way. Like she knew that getting him to explode like that meant that she'd won in whatever weird little game they were playing. Damn her. "Ditto," she replied calmly, with none of her earlier anger.

Then the Boys Room materialized in front of them. Relieved, he shoved the door open. He had to get away from her. And fast.

He sniffled as he looked at himself in the mirror after he'd peed. He didn't like what he saw. He didn't like this at all. How dare this stupid girl come out of nowhere and get to him like that? He paced around the Boys Room angrily, letting off steam. He almost felt like kicking at something. Or burning something, like that time when he'd made his stupid new foster dad's toast burn in the toaster a couple nights ago after Hank had yelled at him. Sometimes he could burn stuff. Sometimes he could break stuff. When he was mad. And he was mad now. Furious.

I want to go home, he decided to himself, a lone tear running down his face before he could get strong enough to stop it. He slumped down by one of the walls, feeling more sad and alone than he ever had. I want to find home, he thought as he got up and wiped at his eyes. Stupid, weak tears.

He could never let them see him cry. Her either. Especially not her.

She shot him a kinda curious look as he came back out of the bathroom again. Say anything about it and die, he thought moodily. But she was strangely quiet. For a minute anyway. And then, of course she had to open her mouth again and ruin everything.

"You're lucky you're not sitting near me," she crowed self-importantly.

"Yeah, why's that?" he asked tiredly.

"Because then I could get you ever hour of every day."

Hmm... that could be kinda fun. Getting into a war with her. That might make school kinda bearable. Might make life kinda bearable, actually. Just as long as he won more than he lost.

"Next year maybe," he said absently, already planning how he'd attack her later at recess. Those little pebbles on the ground would be just perfect for tossing at her. Just perfect.

"Yeah." And she grinned at him. A bright smile like he'd never seen before. At least not directed at him. He usually got scowls. It felt... nice. Warm. Like the sun. Like a home with a blazing fire inside, waiting for him to come and curl up there and live comfortably for once in his life. "Then I can have a whole extra year to plan out my strategy."

"Next year, I'll be ready for you too." Or maybe just next period, he thought to himself, smirking. He shoved her as they reached the door to the classroom, kinda liking the way his hands felt on her. He didn't do it hard though. Not as hard as he could have. "Stupid cheesehead girl."

She gave him another one of her sweet sunny smiles, startling him. "Dumb ugly dorkbutt boy." And she shoved him back, her hands all light and gentle as he bounced back slightly.

His eyes slid down to her curls. He just had to find out what they felt like. He couldn't resist anymore. His hands snatched at one roughly, awe filling him at how soft they were. He took a peek at her face and she was just standing there, letting him. All of her fight gone. At least for now. He smirked down at her. He quickly got a hold of himself and gave one hard yank. He turned away before she could see the doofy look on his face at getting away with that and walked back into the classroom. His hand still tingled from where he'd touched her.

Defeat was just around the corner. He could feel it. Not even a single day and already he was completely whipped.

Disgusting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not posting for a while... I have been sick! But here's the next chapter of Roswell Elementary. I also added a new Iris comic to my website:
> 
>  
> 
> [http://iristiger.com/iris-tiger-tails6](http://iristiger.com/iris-tiger-tails6/)


	5. Secret's in the Sauce

(by Emily)

Food didn't taste right. Ice cream wasn't a sweet summer treat, like that lady at the orphanage said. The first time he'd tried it, he'd spat it right back out again. What a waste of money. Ice cream was bitter-tasting. What was really superfreaky weird though, was that the other kids all seemed to love it.

It just figured that it was yet another thing that he didn't have in common with any of the other kids. It was bad enough that his hands started to glow green sometimes in the middle of the night when he couldn't sleep after one of his nightmares. It was bad enough that sometimes he broke things without touching them when his mean old foster dad got mad at him. But he couldn't even eat ice cream like a normal kid.

Michael knew that there was something missing. He just couldn't put his finger on what exactly it was. So he pretended to like whatever tasteless crap they happened to cook up for him at the orphanage. He choked down Hank's attempts at cooking, which he was actually glad he couldn't taste. He sat in the cafeteria at school and picked at the lunches the stressed-out old hag cafeteria ladies tossed in front of him every day.

One day, he decided to ask Maximillian about it, if only to stop him from staring like a moony dumb cow at the dark-haired girl that was friends with the cootiehead golden curlface in his class. Because Max was smart. Max knew things.

"Maxwell?" he asked while they were sitting at their usual table in the cafeteria. Lunch would be even better once it was warmer outside, because the teachers let them eat out there. Michael already had lots and lots of plans for climbing trees and ambushing that Maria girl with huge handfuls of rocks and twigs and leaves from above. It would be cool to see just how many he could get stuck in her hair. It would also be cool to see just how loud he could get her to scream.

Max tore his eyes away from his long-haired dreamgirl long enough to at least acknowledge Michael had spoken. Michael noticed he hadn't touched very much of his macaroni and cheese either.

Michael poked at the tray in front of Max. "Can you taste it at all?"

"Taste what?" a girly voice asked. It was Izzy Lizardbreath, of course. Max's sister, and maybe his sister too. Although he didn't live with them, because he was dumb and he had been afraid of the lights. But maybe that was okay, because it meant he could be stronger than Max and Izzy, since he didn't have to let anyone into his heart.

"Food. Can you guys taste it?" Michael asked as Izzy slid in next to him, tray and all.

"It tastes like glue or paste," Izzy answered, wrinkling her nose. "But we pretend to Momma that her cooking is so yummy, just to make her happy. Right, Max?"

Maxwell startled, and Michael knew that he was off in his own little fantasy world where he and the dark-haired girl did whatever cheesy romance stuff Max had in his head. "Uhh... right,"he finally agreed. "We used to make Momma sad when we wouldn't eat. We could feel it. Couldn't we, Izzy?"

"I can feel people sometimes," Izzy answered. "Sometimes... I can feel it when Momma and Daddy are sad. And you, Michael. I could feel you, even when you were far away. And I can feel Max, and sometimes I can feel someone else too, although I don't know who he is yet."

Michael smirked. "Do you ever get any 'feelings' about what's wrong with our food?"

Izzy stuck out her tongue. "Don't be such a dork, Michael. If I knew that, don't you think I'd tell you guys?"

"So why does it taste all funny then?"

"I don't know, Michael," Max broke in, trying to be the peacemaker like usual. "None of us know."

"Well, I'm gonna find out, even if it takes me the whole year," Michael decided.

But in the meantime, he could feel the energy that vibrated off Maria getting closer and closer. He threw a quick little sneaking glance over his shoulder, and yep. She was heading right this way, curls bouncing with every step. And what better way to begin lunch than by tripping her flat on her squished-up squashy face?

***

Another detention over and done with, Michael reflected as he sauntered back to the trailer later that afternoon. It was weird, but detention was actually worth it when it was because of another dumb prank he'd managed to pull on Maria. She was so fun to torture, because her vibes would intensify into a hot pulse that almost burned his skin...

Detention was lame anyway. He didn't buy all that stupid stuff about his permanent record that the teachers were always threatening him with. Yeah, like what he did in Roswell Elementary was really gonna matter 8 or 10 years down the road. He'd be long gone from this town by then. Their real parents would find them by then for sure. And Michael's dad could go over to the trailer and kick Hank's butt to here and back for the way Hank had treated his long-lost son. Michael couldn't wait for that day to come. In the meantime, if he had to deal with Hank for a few years, he guessed he'd survive.

The station wagon was parked outside the trailer, and Michael knew that this was a bad thing. According to the crappy duct-taped together old Timex that Michael had found in one of the bins of donated things at the orphanage, it was only 4:30. Hank was hardly ever home this early. He got off of work at the plant by 4, but he'd usually go to one of the taverns in town after work and kick back a couple of beers first.

Hank came storming out of the trailer then, the screen door slamming behind him. "Mickey! I oughtta beat your sorry ass again, boy! I got another call from your principal, sayin' you got detention again!" He snatched Michael's arm roughly, pulling him close enough so that Michael could smell the six-pack he knew that Hank had consumed pouring off him in fumes. "Dammit, boy, if you don't straighten up, you'll be heading on a one-way ticket to nowhere, and I'll be sitting right there watching you rot in hell! Good for nothing no good lousy boy..."

Michael made sure to keep his face expressionless even as he was thinking that probably the only reason Hank even cared was because if he messed up too many times, the state workers would end up taking him away. There would go all of Hank's extra beer money. But Michael wouldn't mess up that many times, not 'cause of Hank and what he said, and not 'cause of Principal Anderson and Mrs. Donaldson and what they said, but just 'cause he knew he couldn't be separated from Max and Izzy again.

He could take a lot of stuff. He could take Hank throwing beer bottles at him without blinking an eye. He could take the burnholes on his t-shirts from where Hank often held his cigarettes too close while he was threatening Michael. He could even take the bruises and the pain. But being apart from Max and Izzy, that was just about the only thing that he couldn't stand. They were his family. He loved them. And Michael didn't love a lot of things. He certainly didn't love the foster father looming above him with a half-crazy mad scientist look on his face.

"C'mere," Hank demanded, dragging Michael into the trailer. He pointed Michael towards the scratched up old kitchen table. "Sit. And if you so much as move a muscle, you'll be sorry."

Hank didn't even wait for Michael to get all the way into the chair before his meaty hands dug into Michael's thin shoulders, forcing him the rest of the way down. Michael let out a small yelp of pain that he hadn't been able to stop from escaping in time, but maybe that was all right, because maybe if Hank saw how much he was hurting, he'd lay off a little. It had never happened before, but maybe this time...

Hank grabbed a package of cookies out of his precious stash of junk food. Cheap imitation Oreos that Hank had probably gotten on discount at the dollar store in town that he often frequented. "My foster father, may God rest his shitty soul, tried this on me once. Made me think twice about misbehavin' again, lemme tell ya." And Hank laughed mirthlessly after relaying this charming little dysfunctional family anectdote.

Michael wondered why Hank did this crap to him, if he really remembered what it was like to be small and scared of someone so big and mean. Hank talked sometimes, when he was so drunk that he was almost incoherant. He talked about his own foster father, when he'd been a ward of the state, and how much he still hated the bastard for everything he'd done. But if he really hated him, then why would he screw up some other kid's life by doing the same things that had been done to him?

Michael had already promised himself at least a hundred times, that when he had kids, if he ever had kids, he'd love them more than anything in the world. Because they'd be an extension of him. And even though he knew he wasn't an extension of Hank, because that would just be too freaking screwy even knowing him and his lousy luck, at the same time he was. Because he and Hank... they were the same, in some ways. Only there was one important way they were different. Michael wasn't going to forget. Maybe he didn't look like he had much of a heart, or much in the way of feelings, but that was just because right now, he couldn't let them out. Someday, he would. And when that happened, he'd never forget where he came from. It just wasn't right to turn around and hit your kids, just because when you were a kid you'd been hit.

Hank was pouring Tabasco sauce all over the cookies, and Michael's heart sunk in dismay when he realized that Hank actually wanted him to eat those things. "This'll teach ya," Hank muttered, pushing the cookies towards where Michael sat. "Eat," he ordered.

"You've got to be kidding me, I ain't eating no gross old--"

"EAT!" Hank roared, getting in Michael's face again.

Michael rolled his eyes, trying to play it cool. He couldn't let Hank see how much he was getting to him. "Calm down, Hank." He picked up one of the cookies, giving it a look. Why in the world did he have to get stuck here of all places? Why couldn't he be some nice cute little kid who everyone fought over wanting to adopt? Not that it mattered much anyway, since he wasn't planning on staying here long.

He took a big bite out of the cookie, and was amazed to discover that it actually tasted right. The sweetness of the cookie brought out the spiciness of the Tabasco sauce. He wolfed down the other cookies, a rare smile on his face. This was it. This was the way things were supposed to taste. And Hank was the one who'd shown him.

"Hey, thanks," he said to a shocked Hank. Before Hank could stop him, he took the Tabasco bottle, then pushed himself away from the table and took off towards the door.

He wiped the traces of crumbs from his face, leaving Hank behind staring after him. He was probably wondering why his stupid plan had backfired in his face. But that didn't matter to Michael anyway, because there were more important things that he needed to think about. He began to run.

***

"Maxwell!" Michael exclaimed excitedly as he crawled in the window. He'd ran the whole way to Max's house. "Guess what?"

Max startled as he looked up from his desk. Michael noticed the open workbook on his desk. Homework. He snorted. Max was such a dork sometimes. "Michael?" he asked. "What in the world--"

"I found it, Max." And Michael grinned.

"Found what?"

"This." Michael pulled out the bottle of Tasbaco sauce he'd filched from Hank, his grin growing even wider. This was just going to be too cool, when Max saw what he had discovered...

"You found Tabasco?" Max gave him a withering look, like he couldn't believe that Michael had come rushing here just to show him Tabasco sauce. Normally that would have been enough to make Michael feel all bad and lousy inside, but this time... This time he knew that if he could just make Max see, then everything would be okay again. "Michael, I have homework I'm trying to do here."

"Got anything sweet in the kitchen?" Michael asked, ignoring Max's growing confusion. "Cookies or something?"

"Mom made chocolate chip cookies last night, but-- Michael!"

Before Max could even finish his sentence, Michael was out the door and tearing towards the kitchen. "I'll show you. Wait there," he called over his shoulder.

When he reached the kitchen, a big plateful of chocolate chip cookies was on the counter, just like Max had said. And Izzy was sitting at the kitchen table wearing her silver princess tiara and paging through what looked like a book of constellations. "Hi, Michael," she said without even looking up from her book.

"Grab a cookie," he ordered her, saying hello back in his own uniquely Michael way.

"I'm reading," she complained.

"This is more important... C'mon, Izzy Lizardbreath." Michael pulled Izzy up out of her chair, but gently, 'cause he didn't want to be all rough like Hank was, and especially not to his sister. He handed her a cookie, took two of his own, and led her back to Maxwell's room.

Max was looking at him like he'd completely lost it, but that was okay. Because he would see in a minute. They'd both see. He took the Tasbaco bottle out again, and doused the two cookies he was holding with it. "Try," he said, handing one of the cookies to Max.

Max looked at the cookie doubtfully. Michael couldn't really blame him though. After all, he'd been there just a little while ago. "Trust me," Michael prodded. "Try. You too, Izzy." He covered Izzy's cookie with the sauce too.

At first, Max and Izzy took a careful little bite, but then their eyes got all wide, and they began to eat faster. Michael watched them both with pride, glad that he'd been the one to show them something for once. He ate his own cookie while he was waiting, losing himself to the taste.

After the cookies were gone, Michael found himself in the middle of a tight three-way hug. Max and Izzy were smiling at him, and it made him feel like maybe just this once he could be the hero in this story instead of Max. He smiled back at his family, answering all of their questions. Although he wasn't quite truthful about how mean Hank had been, because he didn't really want Max and Izzy to know about that part if he could help it. Their love surrounded him, and Michael knew that home was wherever Max and Izzy were.

Tonight, he actually felt grateful that his foster father was such a grade a jerkwad. Because otherwise, he never would have figured out that sweet and spicy was the most perfect food combination on earth.


	6. First Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was one of the first Roswell Elementary fics written, so the tone/style is a bit off compared to some of the other stories... this is one of those stories I would definitely choose to rewrite! But hopefully you'll still find it cute.

(by Emily)

Max Evans spread the sleeping bag out on the floor. His best friend Michael Guerin was staying over tonight. It was their last night of freedom. Tomorrow they'd be going back to school. But at least they would finally be at the top of the totem pole. They were in 5th grade at last!

Max brought out the crumpled sheet of paper with their class list printed on it for at least the five thousandth time since he received it a week ago. He stared at Liz Parker's circled name. Last year in 4th grade, he hadn't been in her class. But this year, he could see her for hours every single day. Well, Monday through Friday anyway. Max couldn't think of anything more perfect.

"Are you still looking at that dumb thing?" Michael asked, getting annoyed. He was always on edge lately. It was even worse now that summer was over and he had to return back to school. "I'm gonna tear it up and throw it out the window if you don't quit it!"

"I gotta make it so that she sits next to me," Max said suddenly.

"What do you mean?" Michael asked warily.

Max didn't say anything... But he had a look on his face. That stubborn look he got. And Michael started to get worried.

"You're not talking about using your powers, are you?" Michael was shocked.

"Shhh!" Max hushed.

"Max, we don't know how to control them real good," Michael said a little quieter.

"No, you don't know how to control them real good," Max corrected with a smile.

"That's not true!" Michael protested. "You're not that much better than me!"

"Look, I don't want to get in a fight," Max replied. "But I gotta do it, Michael. It's Liz!"

"Yeah, right, it's Liz..." Michael said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "It all makes sense now."

Max tossed a pillow at Michael's head. Michael caught it, shot a long angry glance at Max, and sighed. Max's stupid crush on Liz Parker was going to get them in big trouble. He just knew it.

***

Liz Parker and her best friend Maria DeLuca huddled together outside of school. Pow-wow time. It was a tradition. They giggled and whispered together, looking around every once in a while to keep up with what was going on around them.

Just then, Maria spotted Alex Whitman. They had grown very close last year when they were in the same class, because Maria had been separated from Liz.

Now she wasn't sure what to do. Could she still be friends with Alex this year now that they were all in the same class? She hoped so. She really wanted Liz to like Alex. She wanted them all to be friends. She was always talking to Liz about how cool Alex was. He better not blow it!

"Alex!" she called. "Over here!"

Alex came running towards them, grinning. He fidgeted uncomfortably in the suit his mom had made him wear. "Maria, hey!" he said happily.

Maria moved back a little so Alex would have room to join them. "Alex, this is Liz," she said proudly, feeling the unity.

Liz stared at the gawky, skinny, dark-haired boy with the infectious smile. Her own smile appeared before too long. She was immediately taken with him. "Hi, Alex," she said warmly.

Alex's grin spread even wider, if that was even possible. Maria was absolutely tickled. They liked each other! She excitedly grabbed both of their hands. She looked at Liz for a moment, silently asking permission. Liz nodded.

"Alex," Maria said. "We like to do this little pow-wow thing before school starts..."

***

When they walked into the classroom a few minutes later, quite a few kids were already there. They all stared at each other guardedly. Liz nervously chose a desk. Maria immediately took the one next to hers. And Alex decided to sit behind Liz.

The room began to fill up as more and more kids trickled in. Nobody really said much. That's the way it always went on the first day of school. But that would quickly change as they grew more used to each other. Maria looked around, wondering if any of these strange kids would one day become a future friend.

Just then, the door squeaked open once again. Michael Guerin, Max Evans, and his sister Isabel Evans stepped through the doorway. Those three always traveled in a pack. Maria thought it was really weird how they always managed to get into the same classroom. Some kids had all the luck.

Maria blinked as the class collectively drew in a gasp. She squinted. Was that really Isabel? She was positively scrawny last year. But now she looked so... so... grown-up! Her eyes widened as she turned to Liz in surprise.

A giggle escaped from them both. They turned to look at Alex, wanting to include him in their amusement. But he was just staring at Isabel in stunned disbelief.

Maria looked around. In fact, nearly every boy in class was looking at Isabel in the same way. And all the other girls were giving Isabel dirty looks. Maria didn't really understand what was going on with everybody.

Then that disgusting troublemaker Michael Guerin picked her to sit behind. Just her luck. Maybe their teacher would move his seat somewhere else. She hoped so.

Michael glared distrustfully at the back of Maria DeLuca's head. She was always chattering away like a brainless little bird. She would be really fun to torture this year.

Isabel and Max sat in the back together. Max gazed longily up where Liz was sitting. Kyle Valenti was sitting in the seat that would soon be Max's, taking a load off his cowboy boots. But not for long! Max smiled to himself.

Just then, a man entered the classroom. His purposeful stride and stern mannerisms made everybody want to face forward and pay attention. It was Mr. Raddish, their teacher.

Liz sighed as she stared at him. He was handsome!

Mr. Raddish adjusted his bow-tie, pushed his glasses up his nose, and began to speak. "Good morning, class," he began. "Welcome to 5th grade. I am your teacher, Mr. Raddish. We're going to be learning a lot about science this year. It's a great fascination of mine. And I hope to pass my passion on to you..."

Michael's head swam as Mr. Raddish's voice droned on and on. It was all the same to him. It didn't matter what he did. Every year, without fail, his teachers wound up hating him. He had a 'reputation'.

Alex grinned in spite of himself. Was it just him or did that Mr. Raddish have a really big round head? Just like a radish. He immediately dubbed him Mr. Radish-Head. He couldn't wait to share that with Maria and Liz.

He turned his head slightly so he would have a view of Isabel Evans. She had grown amazingly beautiful over the summer. And what a body! She was really smart too. And just as pretty on the inside as she was on the outside. He could tell. Someday... he thought to himself. Someday.

And Liz sat up as straight as she could. She was probably the only one in the entire classroom that was absolutely fascinated by Mr. Raddish's introductory speech. So he liked science... She vowed that she would become the best scientist in the class just for him.

Still speaking, Mr. Raddish walked down the aisle that would take him right by Kyle Valenti's desk. Max smiled. Now was his chance. He briefly closed his eyes, willing Kyle's pencil to roll softly off the desk and right into Mr. Raddish's path.

It happened an instant later. Mr. Raddish slid awkwardly across the floor while the class erupted into laughter. Mr. Raddish indignantly reached down to pick up the pencil that had caused this little escapade. He turned and looked accusingly at Kyle Valenti. Everybody knew who Kyle was, because he was the Sheriff's son.

"Mr. Valenti," Mr. Raddish began. "You have some explaining to do."

Kyle was confused. "But, but... I didn't--"

"Save it, Mr. Valenti. Pick up your things. I'm moving you to the back." Mr. Raddish looked around, trying to figure out where to put Kyle. His eyes landed on Max. "You," he said, pointing to Max. "What's your name?"

"Uhh, Max Evans, sir," Max managed to squeak out. He could feel everybody staring at him.

"Okay... Kyle, Max. Switch desks. Immediately."

Isabel looked frantically at Max. She didn't want to be stuck next to Kyle. He was such a jerk. And those cheesy cowboy boots were a definite fashion no-no.

But Max didn't notice. He was too busy privately celebrating his victory. He gathered up all his things and practically ran over to take his place at the desk next to Liz's.

She surprised him by giving him a welcoming smile. He just looked shyly down at his desk. He could sense Michael's objection radiating out from somewhere behind him. But he didn't care. He had what he wanted. He was sitting here, next to the most beautiful, most perfect, most wonderful girl in the world. Even if she didn't talk to him, or even look at him for the rest of the year, that smile made it all worth it.


	7. Two for Tea

(by Emily)

Mr. James Raddish sighed as he put the drugstore bag down on the kitchen table. Inside was every antacid known to man. He was just stocking up for the long year ahead.

"Tough room this year, hmm?" his wife Sylvia Raddish asked from her spot on the kitchen floor, where she was painting her toenails crimson. "Usually you're not making one of your drugstore runs until at least the second week of school."

James shook his head as he loosened his bowtie. "I couldn't wait a week this time."

"That bad, huh?" She laughed as she got up and put her arms around him comfortingly. "Poor Jimmy." She gently stroked his head.

"Remind me again why I became a teacher," James replied with a groan.

"Because you were a crazy, idealistic young fool who thought you might make a difference in a child's life," she answered, smiling at him.

"You fell in love with a fool," James said, sighing.

"Want to tell me about it? I'll make tea," Sylvia offered.

"Tea would be divine," he said with a smile as she opened up one of the cupboards in their small little kitchenette.

While the kettle was boiling, they sat together at their Formica-topped kitchen table. "I have a feeling I'm in for a tough year," Mr. Raddish began as Sylvia put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I got stuck with Michael Guerin this year. He's a real troublemaker. Broken home, foster father. Always getting sent to the principal's office. And Maria DeLuca, who looks like an angel but is an absolute terror. Not to mention Kyle Valenti."

"The Sheriff's son?" She had heard about the problems Sheriff Valenti and his wife were having at home.

"That's right. He used to be a fairly well-behaved child, but for the last year or so he's gone on a downhill slide. He tripped me with his pencil today. And Rodney Hodgkins is back in my class for his second trip through fifth grade."

She shook her head sympathetically. "Surely there must be somebody good in your class."

"Yes, little Elizabeth Parker. Who, unexplainably, is Maria DeLuca's best friend. Very smart, straight-A student. Excellent in science from what I've heard. Came close to winning the science fair last year, as a matter of fact. I remember. And Max Evans. A quiet boy, keeps to himself. But also a straight-A student. And, again unexplainably, best friends with Michael Guerin, of all people."

"Just remember, Jimmy. It's not the bright, well-adjusted ones who need a good teacher the most. It's the ones who have problems at home. The lost children."

"It's so much easier to just send them off to the principal's office to deal with them though," James complained to his wife of nearly 10 years.

"Sure it is. But promise me you'll at least try."

"I'll try," James answered. "But I'm only human, dear."

Just then, the kettle whistled shrilly. "Which is precisely why I married you," Sylvia replied as she got up out of her chair to turn off the stove.

James just watched her for a minute, shaking his head slightly. Sylvia was right, as she usually was. But she didn't fully understand. To his class, he was just dorky old fuddy duddy Mr. Raddish. Every year he told himself that if he could reach at least one of his students this year, touch one of them in some fundamental way, he would count himself lucky. But every year, it seemed as if that got a little bit harder to do. And it seemed like the older he got, the more often he had to turn to Sylvia, her tea, and the over-the-counter antacids to find his strength to go on.

Who knew what this year would bring? But he had a feeling that if he could get through this year, he could get through anything.


	8. Dinner Date

(by Kara)

The First Day of School Pow-wow was always followed by the First Day of School Dinner at the Crashdown, where the DeLucas and the Parkers all had a family meal together. This was a long-standing tradition, dating back to the early days of Maria-Liz friendship, in first grade.

Maria was just happy to be away from Michael. "I can't believe he's sitting behind me this year. It was bad enough that I had to look at him all year last year, and you weren't even in my class, Lizzie, but now he's right behind me, and he's gonna pull my hair and call me names until one of us dies."

Liz only grinned.

"That's my baby," Maria's mom said with pride, kissing the top of her daughter's golden head with a smile. "She's the only one who can outtalk me."

"But your teacher, Maria. How's your teacher?" Nancy Parker asked, trying to hide a smile.

Maria rolled her eyes. "He's got this big round red head that looks exactly like a--"

Liz came to her teacher's defense. "Mr. Raddish is a very impressive teacher, Mom. Y'know, he's very interested in science, and said he was going to take us on very educational fieldtrips."

And her parents exchanged secret smiles. She hated when they did that.

"So, who else is in your class this year, Lizzie?" Her dad gave her that special smile. "Besides Michael Guerin?"

Maria snorted, her hazel eyes burning.

"Kyle Valenti, Alex Whitman, Max Evans and his sister..."

"And she got boobs this year too!" Maria cut in, curls flying. Liz shot her best friend a "Shut Up" look.

"--and Gracie Cohen, and Maggie Sherman, and Nora Wells, and Tommy and Paulie, Kyle's goons, and Mr. Raddish said that we're gonna do a science fair this year! And a school play..."

"And Kyle almost tripped Mr. Raddish when he was sitting next to Lizzie, so he made Kyle switch with Max, and all he does is give Liz dovey looks all day long!" Maria fluttered her eyelashes, sighing and giggling.

"Maria!" Liz began to tickle her best friend.

"Stop, Lizzie! Stop it!" the blonde shrieked. And all around the Crashdown, faces turned to smile at the two little girls in the last booth by the door, including a young dark haired boy who would later become one of the Three Musketeers, and dark-eyed orphan staring in the window on his way elsewhere, longing for a family and a dinner-date.


	9. Dinner Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might not be able to update for a while because my internet at home is down... so just a heads-up.

(by Kara)

Alex sat with his family at one of the corner tables at the Crashdown, enjoying a nice, quiet dinner. His dad was talking about the medieval history class he was teaching, and his mom told stories about the computer techies on the base. "And there's this new version of Windows that Kit was trying out...I'll try and bring home a copy for you to play with, Alex."

"Thanks, Mom!" He liked playing around with the Commodore computer and the new IBM his mom had almost as much as he liked plunking around on the piano in the living room.

"And how was class, Alexander?" His dad was such a dork. He looked like the typical history professor, with his wire-rimmed glasses and neatly trimmed beard. But his blue eyes laughed a lot. His dad had the same weird sense of humor that he did.

"It was cool. Maria DeLuca's in my class again, so I have a friend." He pointed to the blonde dancing around the booth in the corner. "Remember? Her mom runs the alien shop on the corner."

His mom laughed. "She reminds me of Tinkerbell for some reason."

Alex grinned. That was the perfect description of Maria.

And then his dad's eyes lit up. "Is that little sweet thing the one who socked Rodney Hodgkins last year for calling you a chessboy?"

Alex's chest swelled with pride. "That was Maria." They'd both gotten black eyes and detention from the fight with Rodney, but it cemented their friendship.

"So, who else is in your class this year? Any other friends?" He knew his mom worried sometimes that he didn't have as many friends as he ought to. But the kids his age were just so...dull. Like Kyle Valenti, who was awesome in PE, but could barely play a game of checkers.

"Liz Parker, the one who almost won the science fair last year?" He pointed to the dark-haired girl who was now tickling Maria. "She's Maria's best friend. She's cool. A little more down-to-earth than DeLuca."

His mom smiled. "She's a pretty little girl."

He rolled his eyes. Liz was pretty, but not like Isabel. But no one was like Isabel. Isabel was perfect.

"She seems like someone I can trust as a friend. And she's got a telescope, so she won't make fun of the Commodore."

His dad grinned. "Any pretty girls? If I remember correctly, this is when they really start to shine."

And he blushed. "Umm, Max and Isabel Evans are in my class again too, and their friend Michael." He made a face. "And the fashion twins, Gracie and Maggie."

"Isabel Evans, huh? Philip was at the library the other day looking for research for a case. He said that Isabel had..." his dad blushed "changed a lot over the summer."

Meaning that Isabel had things none of the other girls did. But she was special. There was something about her--he knew there had to be more to her than her good looks. Maybe it was the way he'd seen her clutching her brother's hand every first day of school, all the way back to third grade.

"Oh, and Mom...next year, please don't make me wear the suit. Valenti almost made me eat my tie again. A sweater maybe, but not the tie. It's almost as bad as the sailor suit two years ago."

His mom ruffled his short dark hair. "I'm sorry, hon. I guess I've forgotten that kids today are a little crueler than I remembered." She gave him a grin. "Did Maria beat Kyle up for you then?"

Alex beamed. "No. I used that hold that Uncle Matt taught me, because of my arms, and freaked him out when I put them around my neck."

"Good job, Alex! Nonviolence is always the way!" His dad patted him on the back. His parents were kinda dorky, and nowhere near as fun as some of the other parents he knew, but he loved them, and was glad that they were his.

He looked over at the Parkers and DeLucas and grinned. One big happy family. That's what dinner talk was all about.


End file.
